She's all right, she is.

You don't want to hold the accident up against her, she was mighty sorry about it.

And now I'll go and see if the old lady's got your room ready while you're readin' your letter." The man left the room.
Jimmie Dale sat up on the couch, and tore the envelope open.

The note, scrawled in pencil, began abruptly: "You were quite a problem.

I couldn't take you HOME--could I?
I couldn't take you to what you call the Sanctuary could I?
I couldn't take you to a hospital, nor call in a doctor--the stain you use wouldn't stand it.
But, thank God! I know it's only a flesh wound, and you are all right where you are for the day or two that you must keep quiet and take care of yourself.